Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Some chick? Nice. It really stretches the imagination, what Sloane ever saw in this guy.
“Let me ask you something…” I trail off for a second, mostly for dramatic effect. Sure, there’s part of me shouting in vain, ordering me to stop, waving his arms in the air. I do have a healthy aversion to pain. But I’d rather die than give a jackass like Duke the satisfaction. Call it a moral imperative. “What are the chances a girl has ever not faked an orgasm with you?”
I almost intuit the first blow before it lands. I wince and tense for the impact. Give Duke credit, it hurts far worse than I bargained. I almost regret asking for it. Then the second one comes in quick succession, knocking me to the floor on my hands and knees, and it sort of stuns my nerve endings dead. A pool of blood forms below me for a second before my ribs flare in pain when he lands a stiff kick that flips me over.
“This can end any time you want,” he growls over me, landing another kick.
Blood coats my throat and bubbles out in a hacking cough when I croak out a laugh. “Already? We’re just getting to know each other.”
Duke drops to his knees to pummel my face. I’ve finally had enough when I muster up the strength to throw him off me and scramble to my feet. I’ve been in my fair share of fights and usually hold my own. But if I’m honest, this is the first time I might have bitten off more than I can chew.
Duke and I wrestle around the room, getting tangled up and trading shots. His land more often than not, and each one leaves me blinking away dark spots from my vision a few seconds longer. The fatigue builds faster than I can shake it off, while he doesn’t appear at all winded. Duke’s got ten more rounds in him while I’m clinging to the ropes, my midsection beaten to scrambled eggs and my face a swollen mess.
I’m thinking about asking for a time-out and water break when the door swings open and suddenly Mr. Swinney is shouting as others wrap us up to pull Duke and I apart.
“Everyone to bed,” the housefather orders. He stands fuming in the center of the room in his pajamas, blood staining the bottom of his slippers. “Lights out in two minutes. No exceptions.” He stares down at the mess of trauma smeared on the floor. “And clean this up.”
Duke stumbles off with a final murderous glare in my direction. “This isn’t over,” he warns before Carter forcibly drags him away.
Afterward, Fenn mops up the mess while I lie in bed with two cold soda cans pressed to my face. And another six-pack on my abdomen.
“You get now why I warned you about him,” Fenn says, wringing shiny pink liquid from a rag into a bucket. “Why I took you to the fights.”
“It’s becoming clearer, yes.”
“Yeah?” he mocks. “Because it doesn’t look like you can see too clearly right now.”
I let out a tired groan. “You were right, okay? I was cocky. I ignored your warnings, and this is my reward.”
Everything hurts. The pain is like sand in a plastic bag. Press in one spot and a million grains of pain rush somewhere else.
“In my defense,” I mutter, “he’s a hard guy to take seriously.”
“I get it. He’s a dick. But he backs it up. You have to stop antagonizing him, bro.”
It’s sound advice. I know Fenn’s just looking out for me. Anyway, it’d be difficult to explain to our parents why he let me get shipped home for the holidays in a box. Then again, I’ve always been stubborn.
“Yep. I hear you.”
As of right now, I’m no longer underestimating Duke Jessup.
While he keeps scrubbing, I pull up Sloane’s name in my contacts and give her a call. My hands are too sore to text.
“Hey,” I say when she answers. “Listen, I’m sorry to do this, but I can’t make it tonight.”
From the floor, Fenn shoots me a glare.
“Your lack of punctuality isn’t cute,” Sloane says on the other end. “I’m already here. You better say you’re on your way.”
“I mean it. I can’t tonight. I—”
“Nice try. You’re probably behind me, right? Lurking in the woods like a weirdo. I’m not afraid of the dark.”
Fenn mouths Hang up at me.
“I’m not messing with you. I swear. Give me a couple days—”
“So you’re standing me up.” Her tone changes. In an instant the humor is gone, replaced with pure venom. “Seriously, RJ? What the hell?”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“Save it, asshole. I gave you a chance and you blew it. Have a nice life.”
“Christ, woman.” I growl in aggravation. “Your ex just threw me around my room like a tackling dummy and my face is ten shades of purple, but if you want me to go stumbling around in the dark with both eyelids swollen shut, I guess I don’t mind traipsing through poison ivy if it’ll shut you up for five seconds.”